


His Inward Bale

by glim



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-10
Updated: 2010-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's dream of Albion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Inward Bale

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur's version of the dream Merlin has in part ii of [Letters from the Wasteland](http://glimmergirl.livejournal.com/1537155.html). (Title from Spenser's _Faerie Queene_ I.9.xvi.)

"I dreamed of her again last night."

Arthur doesn't check to see if Merlin is awake before he speaks. The early autumn morning fills the room with cool air and pale light, Merlin's body is warm against his side, and the bedclothes shift as Merlin turns to face Arthur.

"Good dream?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Not bad, either. I don't know…"

Merlin blinks at him, too sleepy to be thoughtful, too calm to be reassuring, and kisses his forehead, his cheek, his lips. "… talk about it?"

Arthur shakes his head again. "You don't worry that I dream about strange women?"

"Could be worse." Merlin shrugs. "Do you dream that she'll kill you?"

"Well. No."

"Do you kill her?"

"No. I… I save her."

"Then, _hush_. I'm not going to worry about a dream."

Arthur almost yields himself to the soft kisses that cover his face and to the warm hands that slip over his chest. Through some tacit connection, some knowledge they've gained of each other, Merlin realizes that Arthur needs neither distraction nor interpretation.

Merlin, who seems to hold magic in a manner not different from the way he holds Arthur, lets Arthur turn away.

+

She is shifting light and color, sunlight flowing into water and grain fields into cities. She offers him everything and takes all he has in return, his youth, willingly given, and his strength, willingly returned, for all Arthur's strength, courage, and love find their source in her.

He sees her in the blinding flash of his shield and in the sharpest point of his sword, in the gleam that lights the eyes of his men after the victory of battle and in the fires that burn in the darkening twilight of a Camelot that knows peace. The crown, the glory, and the conquering are all hers; Arthur only serves.

When he wakes, the dream leaves him hollow inside, his breast riven with a wound too secret to share with anyone. He loves her, in manner so deep that it seems to reach beyond his own understanding of what love and duty are, so deep that it hurts to love that way.

The secret he doesn't tell, the one he fears Merlin can guess by looking in his eyes when he wakes from the dream, is that despite, or, perhaps, because of, his love, he will lose her, he will lose _everything_.

+

Arthur claims that Merlin is the first one he's ever loved.

It's not doubt that Merlin feels – Arthur's declarations of affection are whispered and wordless, sincere, but without the confidence and ease that comes from having learned how to love and how to speak its language in the close, quiet moments of intimacy. His touch is more artful, and he seems to thrill with wonder when their bodies twine around and press into each other during their moments together.

But Arthur's heart was promised long ago. And Merlin finds he can put Arthur first in his own because of that.

"My dreams aren't prophetic. They're… _dreams_. That's all." Uncertainty threads through Arthur's words and he doesn't turn back to Merlin even when Merlin's hand rests at the small of his back. "I'm not that knight. Or… that king. Or whoever I dream I am."

Dawn breaks around Camelot before Merlin moves, pulling Arthur into his arms, wrapping himself around Arthur to pull him back into a few more hours of quiet, dreamless sleep.

"You _will_ be," Merlin murmurs into Arthur's neck, his voice as soft as Arthur's steady breathing, and presses his hand to Arthur's chest, aware of his necessary, secondary place.


End file.
